


you've got leaves in your hair, my dear

by maple_63538462



Series: DSMP Oneshots [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Flower Crowns, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Other, Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), That's it, Time Travelling Karl Jacobs, but mostly sad fluff, everything is platonic, okay I lied there's a little angst after all, two sweet boys making flower crowns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:01:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maple_63538462/pseuds/maple_63538462
Summary: long before things like betrayal & death were even fathomable-there were peaceful times.or, tommy & tubbo make flower crowns in a world before war.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: DSMP Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144226
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	you've got leaves in your hair, my dear

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! today I bring you a quick sad af yet fluffy oneshot! 
> 
> tomorrow? who knowssssss,,,,,

<><><><><><>

The sky is grey. A figure stands on the edge of a rotting, wooden path. He bunches up his fists in the fading colors of his hoodie, before looking up at the ruins in front of him. He stands in front of the Community House of the formerly-great Dream SMP. The bricks had collapsed into the lake long ago, the stone foundation crumbling and only half-standing as the wind leaves ripples on the water. The wood has long since rotted away, some structures of the building still remain.

The brown-haired man collapses at the sight, sitting on his feet as he pulls out a book from the pocket dimension of his inventory. The book was bursting with pages, the leather cover browned and text faded beyond recognition. The pages are yellow and falling out at their fraying seams. As he opens it, faded strings and ribbons used as bookmarks drifted off on the wind.

Sometimes, if he listened close enough, he could still hear the voices of his long-dead friends, their joyous laughs and tear-filled cries carried like ghostly echoes. They were gone as soon as he recognized them, fleeting from his mind faster than they fled from his life, gone like a candle snuffed out by the wind.

He could see the reflections of their smiles in the water; could see their shadows between the trees; could barely smell their scents that disappeared on the wind. Everything reminded him of them... his beautiful fiancés, his friends, _his family-_

He shakes his head to clear the thoughts, as he always did. His focus returns to the weathered tome in his hands, opened to a seemingly random page. It didn't matter what page it was, it never mattered before and it certainly didn't now. The book always knew what he wanted to see anyway.

He closes his eyes and allowed himself to tip backwards into the green-and-purple spiral. The feeling had been strange at first, but he had adjusted to it over the centuries.

When he awoke, he stood in a strange field. He wasn't sure where he was. Knee-high wildgrass stretched as far as he could see; gently-curved hills blocked his view of the sun rising on the horizon. He could hear trees rustling behind him, he figured he must be at the edge of a forest.

When he arrived in a different time, there were always one of three possibilities: he watched the scene from above, like some kind of movie; he was in the scene on his own feet but no one could see him; or he was in the scene and he was corporeal, people could see and interact with him. He figured this was of the second type, he could watch in perspective but couldn't be detected.

Better to observe this one than try to change the events. The book was never wrong, after centuries of use, so why doubt it now? He sat down in the grass cross-legged and waited. Whatever the book wanted to show him, it would show in due time. He had all the time in the world, anyway...

<><><><><><>

It might've been minutes, maybe hours, maybe days? The man wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. He still sat cross-legged in the same spot, watching the sun set into the late afternoon.

Slowly, a small green figure emerged from the line of trees. He appeared to be a little brunette boy, wearing a dark green shirt. The child had a small band-aid that covered the bridge of his nose. He pawed at little fluffy, goat-like ears with one hand and pulled along a slightly taller figure with the other. The taller one seemed to be a similarly-aged blonde boy, wearing a red shirt. The latter wore band-aids all over his shins, there were visible scrapes on both his knees and elbows.

Of course, the man recognized them immediately. He'd seen the two thousands of times before, one rarely without the other. A twin set of heartbeats and innocent souls. He said nothing as the green-clad one gently pulled his companion along, who stopped occasionally to pull at long strands of grass or rip them out and collect them as they went.

The man stood up and followed the two in their footsteps, watching as the shorter one led the taller down a winding, barely-visible path under the grass. Eventually the two (three) reached the top of a hill, where a lone tree stood. Standing atop the hill, the man realized that the entire field was a patch of wildflowers.

"Tuuuuubboooooo," whined the red one, "why'd you bring me here? You said it'd be somethin' cool, this is just a field." The red child didn't seem bored or upset though, rather putting on a front to egg 'Tubbo' on.

"It's cool, ish. They're wildflowers, I come here to watch the bees. Isn't it nice?" Asked Tubbo. The boy didn't seem fazed at all by the whining of his friend, and instead opted to sit down in the grass. "If you're so bored, then collect some of the flowers for me, I wanna show you something."

"Always you and your bees, Tubbo. I'll get the dumb flowers." The blonde child half-grumbled as he stormed off, going down the path to pick flowers. He knelt down and picked wildflowers with surprising carefulness, contrasting to his childlike bravado. The boy's hands seemed nimble and gentle, separating the flower stalks from the stems and picking off most of the leaves before moving on. He gathered what variety he could find, although most were daffodils and poppies with a few weeds mixed in. He quickly returned to his friend's side, holding out the flowers in a fist for him to take.

"Thanks, Tommy", said Tubbo as he took the flowers. Tommy sat down next to Tubbo cross-legged with a pleased look on his face, akin to a child showing off a drawing or a cool insect to their parent. Tubbo smiled and began separating the bundle of flowers by type. Tommy pulled apart blades of grass he pulled from the dirt beside him while he waited for Tubbo to finish.

Tubbo poked Tommy's shoulder when he was done, then motioned for him to come closer as he picked up the new bundle of daffodils. With practiced hands, he began separating them and weaving them together. He did so slowly, so that Tommy could follow. Tommy made some remark about how boring this activity was, but the man could see Tommy's hands in his lap mimicking Tubbo's as the latter boy demonstrated to him.

When Tubbo was finished, he presented the flower crown to Tommy. The latter took it with a smile and gently placed it in the grass next to him. The two chatter back and forth as Tommy took the poppies and began weaving (or rather, attempting to) weave them into a similar shape.

"No-Tommy, you're doing it wrong, you've gotta do it like this-" said Tubbo as he undid one of the links and re-did it a little neater.  
"Ugh-Tubboooooo, this is boring. I'm bored. Is this all you do out here? I don't wanna make some stupid flower crowns."

"But you wanted to-"  
"Sileeence, Tubboooo-I did not ask you to show me boring things," Tommy interjected before Tubbo could finish his sentence, "listen Tubbo-I wanna do something cool! I wanna spar or somethinggggg, this is boring!"  
"I'm not good at sparring, and I don't like it. If you wanna spar, go bug Techno.", said Tubbo in response as he picked up Tommy's discarded project and finished it off, nice and neat. A second flower crown was placed next to the first.  
"But Tubbooooo-"

"Sh." Tubbo shushed him by plonking down the daffodil crown on top of his head, although more abruptly than forcefully. However, it succeeded in getting Tommy to be quiet for a moment, as the blonde took a moment to adjust the crown's position on his head.

"I'M LIKE TECHNOBLADE, BITCH!", Tommy shouted as he leapt to his feet. Tubbo smacked Tommy's hand when he heard him curse, and he received a wrinkled-nose glare in return. The boy continued shouting excitedly not a moment after. "Right? I mean, the sparring, the golden crown, I should dye my hai-no wait, Wilbur and Techno would give me so much shit for that. Oh, next time I see those two out in public past dark, I'm going to stab them."

"Yeah, yeah, once you finally learn how to spar without accidentally throwing your sword across the room." Tubbo smirked out of satisfaction and took the crown of poppies to wear.

"Oh, shut up, big man." Tommy grumbled as he snatched the crown off the brunette's head and taking a moment to balance it perfectly on top of the crown on his own head. When he did so, a shit-eating grin appeared on the boy's face.

Tubbo frowned and let out a disappointed 'hm'. Tommy took off the second flower crown and placed it back on top of Tubbo's head. "Love you, Tubbo.", the boy mumbled.

Tubbo smiled brightly and adjusted the crown to fit his head a little better, then stood up. "We should bring back some flower crowns for Techno and Wilbur and Phil." He suggested. Tommy nodded and ran off again to collect more flowers. This time, Tubbo followed him down the hill and out of the man's vision.

<><><><><><>

The man could feel the memory fading as he tipped backwards into the portal again. He closed his eyes as he clutched the book tightly to his aching heart.

When he returned to his position, knelt in front of the ruined community house, only then did he allow the tears to fall. He didn't once allow the book to fall out of his grasp, instead held it like his lifeline in his left arm while he pounded the wood of the bridge with his right. Sobs wracked his body as the memories came flooding back to him, and he cried harder when he remembered that, like always, they'd disappear and he'd forget them again.

and the clouds were grey, and the water was dark, and nothing was right anymore.

_I miss them..._

<><><><><><>

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I'm not great at writing fluff/domestic scenes, so let me know how I did! I was trying to write a fluff fic and ended up writing more sad shit,,, but I think I like how it turned out.
> 
> you get a cookie if you can correctly guess who the man is! :>
> 
> thanks for reading, have a good day <3


End file.
